>S 3507 
.fi712 

05 

1920 
Copy 1 






VAGABOND PLAYS—No. 2 

)N VENGEANCE 
HEIGHT 

A Play in One Act 
By Allan Davis and Cornelia C. Vencill 




Baltimore 

The Norman, Remington Company 

1920 



ON VENGEANCE 
HEIGHT 

A Play in One Act 

\ 

BY 
ALLAN DAVIS and CORNELIA C. VENCILL 



The Norman, Remington Company 

Baltimore 

1920 



$"1 c 






K^ ^'^ ^ 



Copyright, 1914, 1920 
By ALLAN DAVIS 

All Rights Reserved 



Application for the acting rights 
of this play should be made to Allan 
Davis in care of the publishers. 



ate 28 1920 

'Gi.D 5 6H6 3 



TO 

M. D. D. 



This play was first produced by 
the Vagabond Players in Baltimore, 
Maryland, on February 2, 1920. 



First Produced at the Vagabond Theatre Feb. 
2, 1920, WITH THE Following 

Cast of Characters 

Cheridah Gormley Edmonia Nolley 

Hope Somia Whitman 

Lem Carmalt Clapham Murray, Jr. 

Clay Patrick Riley 

Produced by Mrs. John E. Boisseau 
Setting by Edward Berge 

scene: a cabin in the Tennessee Mountains, 
Thirty years ago. 
October. Evening. 



Note on the dialogue: 
The mountaineers often use several forms of the 
same word interchangeably. 



ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 



{Right and Left are from the point of view of 
the actor) 

Scene: The cabin of the Gormleys in the Ten- 
nessee mountains. Everything primitive. 

The heavy door is in the centre of the rear wall, 
and to the right and left of it are small windows. 
In the right wall, towards the front, an open fire- 
place with crane, kettle, and other implements. On 
the left, a rude framework supporting a pallet cov- 
ered with dark gray blankets and a bear robe. At 
the further end of this bed, ladder-like steps rising 
from the floor to a trap-door in the low ceiling, lead- 
ing to the loft. 

A log settle stands out in the cabin at the upper 
end of the fireplace. In front of the fireplace, a 
spinning-wheel and chair. A rough pine table and 
two chairs, made of scantling, at the centre. A 
single shelf in the centre of the room hung from 
the low, unhewn beam which run^ from left to right 
across the room. A rifle over the chimney piece; 
pelts. Brushwood, kindling, and logs. 

It is mid-October. Evening. A fire under the 
kettle. 

As the curtain rises, it discloses Cheridah 
GORMLEY (Gram) spinning. She is past sixty and 
blind, but vigorous with the wiry strength of the 
mountain people. The door, which swings inward 
to the left, is open. Through it, a last crimson ray 
of the setting sun falls upon the woman, showing 

7 



8 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 

her face as that of one whose elemental nature has 
become softened and spiritualized by loneliness and 
grief. 

The ray fades, disappears. Twilight upon the 
mountains. 

The woman spins, and hums. As the twilight 
deepens, she sings the words of the hymn. 

GRAM 

"0 Thou fr*m Whom all goodness flows, 

I lif my soul ter thee; 
In all my sorrers, conflicts, woes, 
Dear Lord, remember me." 
{She stops abruptly and listens. Then, before 
anybody appears — challengingly) 
Who's thar? Who's thar, I say? 
(Brightly) 
That yo', Hope? 
(Bustling, as she rises) 
Come in, child, come in. 

HOPE TAVENDER 

(Entering with a basket — a young mountain 
woman, barefoot and in homespun) 

Seems like yo' could hear a robin a-hoppin' on 
th' sof grass, th' way yo' know who's a-comin', 
Gram. Seems like yo' could mos' see. 

GRAM 

(Pleased) 

W'en th' Lord takes one thing, he gives anuther. 
My hearin' gits better'n' better. 

(As she feels her way to the center) 
Whar air ye, child? 



ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 9 

HOPE 

(Putting her basket upon the table) 
Hyar. 

GRAM 

(Taking her hands — motherly) 

Light th' lantern, an' set down. Yo' mus' be 
ti-erd. 

(Sitting right of table as Hope goes to the fire- 
place with the lantern) 

Yo're the workingest gal in these hyar hills, 
Hope. An* yo' mus'n't come way over hyar so of en 
jes' fur me. 

HOPE 

(As she lights the lantern with a sliver of kin- 
dling) 

Wen my pore mammy war a-dyin', didn' yo' come 
way down four cabin in all weathers nights, f keer 
fer her? My pap he don't fergit hit even ef he is 
old and cain't come hisself. 

GRAM 

(As Hope rises and crosses back of her to the 
head of the table. 

Yo'r mammy war my neighbor. Hit pleasured 
me. 

HOPE 

(Almost sharply) 

Wall, yo're my neighbor, and hit pleasures me 
now. 

(In a milder tone) 

fve fotched yo' some shortened bread I jes' 
baked, an' some quinces fur jelly. They's all peeled 
an' ready. An' hyar's some chinquapins and paw- 
paws. They's jes' right now. 



10 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 

GRAM 

(Gratefully) 

Yo' do more'n ketch my chickens an' do my chores 
an' fotch me corn pone an' quinces an' chinquapins 
an' paw-paws, Hope. Yo' fotch me yer'self w'en 
hit's lonely, an' yer voice wen hit's a-quiet. . . . 
The days air long an' always — black. I set a-list- 
enin' fur th' owls ter hoot so's I'll know w'en night 
comes. 

(With a change) 

I dunno whut I'd a done without ye, sence Clay 
done went away t'larn. 

HOPE 

Hit won't be so lonesome fer yo' w'en he comes 
back. 

GRAM 

(With hurried evasion) 

Oh, I hain't in no hurry fur Clay t' come back. 
No hurry 't all. 

HOPE 

(Thoughtfully) 

He mus' be purty near ter growed up now. 

GRAM 

(Anxiously) 

Growed up? W'y he's jes' a child. 

HOPE 

He's sixteen. 

GRAM 

Whut's sixteen? 'Tain't nuthin' but a boy, that's 
what he is — nuthin' but a little boy. 



ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 11 

HOPE 

Been gone six years, hain't he? 

GRAM 

(Uneasily) 

Yas — sence his father war shot. 

HOPE 

The men at the Gap war a-sayin' 

(Catches herself up) 

GRAM 

(Quickly, but with difficulty) 
Whut war they a-sayin'? 

HOPE 

Oh, nuthin' 

(Attempting to change the subject) 

Is thar ennything I kin do hyar fur yo'. Gram, 
afore I go? 

GRAM 

Yo' hain't good at keepin' things back, Hope. 
Whut war th' men down ter the Gap a-sayin'? 

HOPE 

(Sullenly) 
Nothin'. 

GRAM 

(Sharply — with authority) 
Whut war they a-sayin', I axed? 
(Pause — strongly ) 
I'm a-waitin' fer ter hear. 

HOPE 

Well, they sez ez how you're a-keepin' Clay from 
comin' back. 



12 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 

GRAM 

(Glibly) 

0' course Fm a-keepin' him fr'm comin' back. 
Everybody knows that. I want him ter git some 
larnin' afore he's growed up an' too old. 

HOPE 

(Slowly) 

They sez hit's 'cause you're scairt. 

GRAM 

(Springing to her feet aroused) 

Who sez that? Scairt? 

(Walking up and down wrathfully) 

Me, Cheridah Gormley, scairt? Ev'fybody in 
these hyar mountains knows how scairt I am. 

(With proud laughter) 

Scairt am I? Scairt! — w'en I killed Bryce Car- 
malt with my own hands. 

(With a change) 

Gowd fergive me my wicked pride. Gowd fer- 
give me my sins. 

(With a cry) 

Hope — air you thar? 

HOPE 

Yas. 

GRAM 

Kem hyar. 

(Hope goes to her — the older woman clings to 
her) 

Hope, I am scairt. I hain't never tole nobody 
before, but it's Gowd's truth an' it's always with 
me — a-watchin' me. 



ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT V6 

(Tremblingly) 

I'm scairt — Fm scairt. 

HOPE 

(Soothing her) 

I know how yo're feelin'. 

GRAM 

(Swaying herself backward and forward — in a 
dead voice) 

No, yo' don' know. Nobody cud know less she'd 
been thro' it — nobody. 

(Pause) 

Is it dark yet outside, Hope? 

HOPE 

Thar's a little light. 

GRAM 

Go t' the winder an' look out — t' th' left. 

(Hope does so) 

Thar's Vengeance Height . . . ? 

PIOPE 

Yas. 

GRAM 

Y' see somethin' 'ginst the sky? 

HOPE 

(Suspecting what's coming) 
0' course. 

GRAM 

Some boulders 'bout's high's a man? 



14 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 

HOPE 

(Sympathetically) 

Yas. But don't make me count 'em agen. 

GRAM 

Count 'em. 

HOPE 
(Umvillinghj) 
I know how many thar air, Gram. 

GRAM 
{Firmly) 
Count 'em. 

HOPE 
Well, jest because ye want me to. . . . Startin' 
fr'm th' fur side — thar's one 

GRAM 

{At the center, interrupting, her sightless eyes 
gazing before her) 

Thar's whar my man Zeke's buried. 'Twar 
twenty year back. Er old sow of ourn had done 
strayed away through a hole in the pen, an' the 
Carmalts they claimed hit. The Carmalts — how I 
disgust that name! — Zeke went over t' see 'em 
'bout it — friendly like. One thing led to 'nuther — 
thar war high words — an' old Jim Carmalt— he 
shot Zeke — he shot him fr'm behin', without warnin' 
an' without a-givin' him a chance. . . . My Zeke — 
my man Zeke. . . . 

{Living through it again) 

I 'member w'en they fotched him thro' that door, 
an' I turned down the kiver of that thar bed fer 
him, an' they laid him on it, an' I tuk th' lint rags 



ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 15 

f'm this shelf an wropped him, and watched him an' 
watched. But the mornin' o' th' next day, when 
it was a-gittin' gray thro' the winders' an' the 
mockin' birds was a-whistlin' an' th' cuckoos 
a-callin' an' the peckerwoods a-tappin', an' eve'y- 
thing was beginnin' agin outside — he died. 
(With grim but shaking interrogation) 
Thar's anuther boulder beside that one, hain't 
thar? 

HOPE 

Y-a-s. 

GRAM 

That's Jeff — my fust born. He killed Jim Car- 
malt as kilt his pap ; an' then Bryce Carmalt killed 
him. 

(Pause — intensely) 

Go on a-countin' 



HOPE 



(With difficulty) 
Three-four — — 



GRAM 

Them's my boys Steve and Tolliver. They war 
a-swimmin' one evenin' in Black Pool, an' Lem 
Carmalt, he shot 'em both, an' they died — in th' 
water 

(Hope turns away with a shudder) 

(Pressing her) 

Why hain't yo' countin'? 

> 

HOPE 
I — I — cain't. 

GRAM 

Yo' cain't count 'em, but I buried 'em, an' I kin 



16 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 

count 'em. . . . Th' nex' is five. . . . That war my 
boy Tom. He accounted fur two o' th' Carmalts 
afore they got him. . . . An' when he w^ar a-dyin', 
I tole him he done well, an' he went out a-smilin'. 

(Pause — less strongly) 

An' the nex' is six . . . my boy Cliff — Clay's 
pappy. A mammy loves all her boys, but I reckon 
I loved Cliff mos' — he hed curly chestnut hair an' 
war allers bright an' smilin' an' — oh he war jes' — 
Cliff. ... He war a-takin' me ter th' Gap. Hit 
war 'bout this time o' year. The milkweed pods 
war a bustin' an' thar war asters, an' barberry 
bresh red's a flannel shirt in th' woods, an' a power 
o' golden-rods a shinin' clean an' yaller. How 
good I cud see in them days — how good I cud 
see! ... I wuz on hoss-back behin' Cliff, an' he 
war a-singin'. Then sudden a turkey-buzzar' riz 
up a-tween the boss's hoofs — an afore I cud even 
think how bad a sign it wuz, Lem Carmalt an' two 
more of 'em done fired at us. . . . Cliff got one of 
them — an' then — they shot Cliff — an' w'en I see him 
layin' theer so still, I tuk his Win-chester an' shot 
Bryce Carmalt 

{Pause — slowly) 

An' then Lem Carmalt he fired at me — an'— I lost 
my eyes. 

{Simply — as if summing it all up) 

An' thar war six boulders on Vengeance Height, 
in our plot, an' five in th' Carmalt's plot — an' me. 

{With a change) 

That's why w'en th' circuit rider asked me t' give 
him Clay t' take to school w'en he war ten year old, 
I let him go. That's why I've kep' him away these 
six years — t' keep him safe. . . . 



ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 17 

CWith an outcry of stifled grief and loneliness) 
D' you reckon I relish my little grandson t' be 
away? D' you reckon I relish t' live hyar all alone, 
blin' an' helpless? But Fm gittin' old. I cain't 
stand things ez I could . . . Clay's all I got, and 
I'm scairt fur him — scairt o' that rattlesnake Lem 
Carmalt as killed my boys Steve an' Tolliver an' 
Cliff an' tuk away my sight — I'm scairt . . . I'm 
scairt. . . . 

HOPE 

(With mountain philosophy) 

Clay's a man. He'll hev t' take up the war. 

GRAM 

Yo're young an' yo're hard. Whut d' you know 
'bout a war that yo' kin talk so easy? Yo hain't 
hed twenty years of it. Twenty years back hit be- 
gun — twenty years hit hez lasted . . . bitter years 
— dark years. . . . One by one they kem thro' that 
door. One by one they laid on that pallet-bed an' I 
watched over 'em — all but Cliff — an' one by one they 
died — an' Cliff he died, too. . . . The war ! Ef hit 
mus' go on, lemme die fust, dear Gowd, lemme die 
fust. 

HOPE 

(Kneels on floor beside her) 

I am young, an' hard, an' I don' know — I'm sorry, 
Gram, sorry I talked that-a-way. W'y Lem Car- 
malt hain't been seen hyar fer months. He mus' 
be gone away. Maybe he's gone fer good. 

GRAM 
(Hopefully) 
D' yo' reckon ? 



18 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 

HOPE 

I'm shore. 

GRAM 

(Raising and embracing the girl) 

Oh ye air a good gal, Hope. ... I wish I could 
see yo\ ... Ye war sech a little thing w'en my eyes 
saw las'. 

(Pause, while she passes her finger tips over the 
girl's features) 

Yo* favor yer mammy — but I wish I could see! 

(Hope kisses her impulsively) 

(Moved) 

Why Hope! 

(Pause, . . . The owls hoot outside) 

Thar's the owls a-hootin\ 

(Gently) 

Ye better be a-goin' back afore hit gits too late. 

HOPE 
(Putting some brushwood on the fire) 
Kin I take th' lantern? 

GRAM 

Why shorely. Whut good's er lantern ter me? 

HOPE 
I'll be over t'morrer. 

GRAM 

Y' air always welcome. 

HOPE 
Night. 

GRAM 
Night. 



ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 19 

(Hope swings off through the door and to the 
left. The fire burns up a little — Gram hums and 
spins once more. As she does so, Lem Carmalt, a 
man well over six feet tall, a powerful, grizzled crea- 
ture in homespun and blue shirt and carrying a 
rifle, comes to the door with the craft and silence of 
a woodsman, and stands there watching her in- 
tently) 

GRAM 

(Stopping suddenly) 

Someone's in this room. 

(Pause) 

Who is it? 

(With increasing uneasiness) 

I know yo're thar. Who is it? 

(Wildly) 

Who is it, I say? 

LEM 

(Grimly quiet — without moving) 
Who d' yer reckon hit is? 

GRAM 

(Cries out, leaping to her feet) 

Lem — Carmalt. Lem . . . Carmalt!! 

LEM 

(Sharply) 

That thar's my name, an' ye be mighty respec'ful 
ez how ye speak hit. 

GRAM 
(Breathless) 

Y-You — ! Y-y-ou! — How dar' ye set foot hyar 
in my cabin ? 



20 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 

LEM 

{Grimly) 

Yer door's open. 

GRAM 
Hain't ye th' scum o' th' yearth ter kem hyar like 
this, a-knowin' Fm 'lone! Whut fer air ye hyar? 

LEM 

Whut fer am I hyar? I'm hyar fer ter welcome 
Clay. 

GRAM 
{Mystified) 
C-Clay ... he hain't hyar. 

LEM 
I done heerd tell of a young lookin' stranger t' 
other side o' th' Gap. Jinny Wilkins — th' half wit 
— she said ez he war a-huntin' quail — an' he looked 
like Clay. So I kem ter welcome him laike I wel- 
comed three other Gormleys afore him. 

GRAM 

{White to the lips) 
Gowd — Gowd ! 

{Suddenly turning to him) 

Lem, ye said ye done killed three Gormleys? 

LEM 

{Proudly) 

Yas. Yer Tom, he got two of ourn, but I got 
three o' yourn — I did — three — they was Steve an' 
Tolliver an' Cliff. 

{Fondling his gun stock) 

Thar's the notches. 



ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 21 

GRAM 

(Almost beside herself) 

Yas. . . . An' thar's six o' ourn gone an' I'm 
good's daid. Say seven o' ourn an' on'y five o' 
yourn. So far, yo're side's ahead, hain't hit, Lem? 

LEM 

(Grimly toneless) 
Waal I reckon. 

GRAM 

(Suddenly) 

Lem, let's call hit off. 

LEM 
Whut? 

GRAM 

The war. I hain't got many more years ter live. 
I'll soon be gone. Thar's on'y Clay and you lef . 
Live out yer years, Lem ; let him live out hisn. 

(With a struggle) 

I'll take th' shame o' th' Gormleys a-bein' beaten. 
Let's say quits. 

LEM 

I sv^ore I v^ouldn't put back my rifle-gun while 
thar war a Gormley a-livin'. 

GRAM 

Then ye swore murder. 

(A movement from Lem) 

Yas, I said murder. Afore I got r'ligion, I didn' 
reckon it that-a-way, but shore's Gowd's up thar 
a-lookin' down on us, hit's murder. D' you think 
He wants ye to keep an oath like that? 



22 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 

LEM 

I said I'd do it, an* I'm a-goin' t'. 

GRAM 

A' right, an' suppose ye do it. Suppose ye git 
Clay th' way ye got th' uthers, an' I die too, an' all 
th' Gormleys air gone, and yo're lef , jes' yo, Lem 
Carmalt. Yo'll sit on' yo'r chair in front o' th' fire, 
and yo'll hoi' yer rifle-gun t' yo' an' feel o' the /owr 
notches cut on th' stock, an' yo think yo'll be happy 
then, Lem, don't ye? Yo' think yo'll be happy? 

LEM 

(Transported) 

Yas — I'll be happy. I'll be a-restin' thar an' 
a-thinkin' how I cleaned 'em up. Hit'll be th' glad- 
dest hour of my life. 

GRAM 

Hit'll be the bitterest, 'cause yo'll know four men 
is a-standin' up afore their Maker an' a-pointin' 
down ter yo'. Each one of 'em a-pintin' t' yo' and 
each one a-sayin', "Thar's Lem Carmalt as killed 
me." An' thar'll be thunder an' lightnin' in yer 
heart, an' th' face o' Gowd a-burnin' in yer face. . . . 
That's how yo'll be happy, Lem. 

LEM 

Y' cain't move n.'e with that thar talk. I know 
whut I'm a-goin' ter do. 

GRAM 

(In desperation) 

Y' cain't git Clay. He's too fur from hyar. 



ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 23 

LEM 

I'll hunt him out. Should ha' done it long ago. 

GRAM 

(As a last effort) 

Ef I cain't make yo' listen fur th' sake o' th' 
Word, listen fur th' sake o' yer pride. Ef yo' kill 
Clay, yo' on'y kill a boy, an' whut'll th' mountains 
say t' that? 

(Imploringly) 

Wait till he's a man, Lem, wait till he's a man. 

LEM 

Leave him so's he kin git me? He's old enough 
t' pull a trigger. 

(With a haunted look) 

Somethin' keeps a-tellin' me t' watch out fur him. 
Th' las' six months, somethin' keeps a-sayin', "He'll 
git you onless ye git him fust." So I'm a-goin' ter git 
him. 

GRAM 

(Frantically) 

Lem, leave Clay alone. Think o' me, Lem, hev 
-pity on me. Clay's all I got lef. Hain't I suffered 
enough? Hain't yo' had satisfaction enough? 

LEM 

(Thunderously) 

No! An' I'll never hev enough. Ef you've seed 
yo'r man an' yo'r boys die, I've seed my pap an' 
my brothers die — shot down by yourn. Ef you've 
been misruble — wot of me — a-slinkin' aroun' on th' 
hills like a wild animal — a-sleepin' with my eyes 
an' ears open — a-listenin' t' ev'y leaf — a-watchin' 
ev'y shadder. Gowd, th' life I've hed ! 



24 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 

GRAM 
Not in th' las' six years. 

LEM 

Wall, hit's beginnin' again, an' I cain't rest. But 
w'en th' Gormleys is done, then I'll rest well. 

GRAM 
(Shrieking with rage) 

Ef I could only git ye myself. . . . Ef I could only 
see long enough fur one shot at yer pizen heart! 

LEM 

You'll never glint 'long th' sights on a gun bar'l 
again, y' ole she devil. 

GRAM 
(Facing him — her eyes upturned) 

Hain't yo' proud o' yer v^urk — Look at hit — 
look 

(Taking hold of him and thrusting her blind face 
into his eyes) 

Now th' nex' time yo' sight along yo'r gun — 'stead 
o' seein' Clay, see these eyes in front o' yo'. See 
'em always — in yo'r cabin, an' w'en yo' go out — 
in th' darkness an' th' rain an' th' bright sunlight 
an' in mornin' an' at night — always in front o' yo'. 
An' w'en yo'r finger te'ches th' trigger feel hit 
slippy with th' blood o' th' men yo'r murderin' ban's 
hev killed, an' shoot wide o' the mark, Lem, shoot 
wide o' the mark. 

LEM 

(Savagely) 

Shet up, I say. Hold yer jaw. 



ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 25 

GRAM 

(Borne along) 

An' now git out of hyar. A Carmalt y' air, an' 
a Carmalt you'll die — a polecat like all th' uther 
polecats — ^yer kin. 

LEM 

(Furiously) 

Yo' leave my name alone or by 

GRAM 
(Scornfully) 
Why don't ye shoot? I ain't afeerd o' yo'. 

LEM 

(With^ a rough push rather than blow, sending 
her sprawling onto the floor) 

Ye hain't worth shootin'. 

(At the door — quietly) 

An' look hyar — ef I ketch yo out on th' trail, I'll 
jes' finish the work I begun six years ago. 

(In his grimly quiet, almost colorless tone) 

Blin' ole cat. 

(He goes out) 

(Gasping and quaking with excitement, and with 
inarticulate cries of pain and impotent rage, Gram 
rises, hurries as quickly as she can to the door, 
bangs it to and bars it, and puts up the wooden 
shutters and bars them. As she is moving away 
from them to the table, she throws her head back as 
if listening to something overhead. The trap door 
opens, and the face of a dark haired boy appears in 
the opening.) 

CLAY 

(Softly, at the trap door) 
Gram. 



26 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 

GRAM 
{To herself) 
Hit hain't true. I'm jes' a-hearin' hit. 

CLAY 

Gram, don' you hear me? 

(He hurries down the ladder. A tall handsome 
young boy of sixteen, in corduroys — a rifle slung 
over his shoulder. He carries a few quail and some 
wild flowers) 

GRAM 

(Overjoyed, yet not believing her senses) 

Is it — Is it? . . . 

CLAY 



Yas, Gram. 






GRAM 


Hit's Clay! 






CLAY 


Yas, hit's me. 






GRAM 



(Embracing him) 

My boy, my little boy Clay — my little boy Clay. 

CLAY 

(Importantly) 

I'm not little enny mo', Gram. 

GRAM 
(Smiling) 
Shorley not. Yo're quite a man. 

CLAY 

(Pleased. Slips off his rifle and puts it upon the 
table) 

Yas . . . an' I reckoned 't was 'bout time I got 



ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 27 

home t' do somethin' fur you. So I borreyed the 
circuit rider's oV critter Colonel — funniest ol' hoss 
y' ever did see — an' I tuk my rifle-gun and kem 
over th' hills. Look what I've brought you. 

GRAM 

. (Touching them) 
Some pa'tridges. 

CLAY 

Yas. Y'ought ter see me shoot 'em. Plink — on 
th' wing too — an' they drap daid. Circuit rider sed 
ef I knew my Bible's well's I knew how t' shoot, I'd 
be better off. But I tole him shootin' come natch'l 
an' th' Bible didn't. 

(Pleasantly) 

Hyar's white everlastin' an' some evenin' prim- 
roses I found on th' way. They looked laike drops 
o' snow an' yeller sunshine on th' black mountains. 

(Remembering her blindness) 

Oh. . . . 

GRAM 

Don' mind, Clay. I like ter know w'en things look 
purty. But how'd yo' get in? 

CLAY 
I wanted to surprise yo, so I tethered ol' Colonel 
down in th' dip — and come over my ol' secret trail, 
and up through the holler tree jes' outside thar — 
an' 'cross th' branch right into th'- lof ' window. Oh, 
it's gran' gettin' back into th' hills and among the 
pines again. 

GRAM 

Don' ye want somethin' t' eat? 



28 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 

CLAY 

No. I stopped at th' Wilkins cabin, an' ole man 
Wilkins he give me somethin' t' eat. 

GRAM 

(Fear gripping her as she thinks of Lent) 
Did Jinny Wilkins see yo'? 

CLAY 

Yas — o' course — but wheref o' yo say it that-a-way 
—"Jinny Wilkins?'' 

GRAM 

Why, I done said it nachally. I don't mean nuthin' 
by it. . . . Come hyar, Clay — set beside me and tell 
me whut you've larned. Kin yo' read an' write 
some? 

CLAY 

{Troubled) 

Yas — but I ain't thinkin' 'bout that. What makes 
ye ac' so quare, Gram ? 

GRAM 

Nuthin', nuthin' 't all. What's quare, except 
bein' so glad t' see yo. 

CLAY 

Yo' don' ac' glad. Yo' ac' scairt laike. 

GRAM 

Why should I be scairt? 

CLAY 

I dunno. 

(Looks round puzzled) 

Why'd yo' bar th' doors an' winders ? People in 
th' mountains don' bar their door. 



ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 29 

GRAM 

(Evasively) 

I'm 'lone. Somebody might come in. 

CLAY 

(Suspiciously) 

I thought I seen somebody go out'n that door 
when I was a-comin' over my oV trail. I caught 
sight o' his shadder. Who was it, Gram? . . . 

GRAM 
Jes' oF man Tavender. 

CLAY 

Seemed bigger'n oV man Tavender. 

GRAM 
(With dignity) 
I said 't war oV man Tavender, Clay. 

CLAY 

(Sullenly) 

Maybe I was wrong, but hit didn' seem like 



(The far scream of a horse in pain breaks his 
speech) 

CLAY 

What's that? Why hit's ol' Colonel. Pore crit- 
ter, he's hurt hisself. 
(He starts for the door) 

GRAM 
(Terror-stricken) 
Hit hain't Colonel, Clay. 

CLAY 

Yes, 'tis. 



30 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 

GRAM 

No, tain't, Clay. I tell ye tain't — I know. 

CLAY 

(Positively) 

He's hurt — y* cain't fergit the screamin' of a 
hawss once you've heard it. I know that's Colonel. 

GRAM 
Don' go, Clay. 

CLAY 

' Why not? 

GRAM 

Somebody's a-hurtin' him a-purpose. 

CLAY 

(Smiling) 

Why, who'd hurt a hawss a-purpose — 'less it was 

a Carma 

(The truth dawns on him — slowly) 
It's Lem Carmalt! 

GRAM 

(Paiose — slowly) 

Yas, Clay. He's been hyar t'night. He's a-waitin' 
t' kill ye. 

CLAY 

Hyar ! Lem Carmalt hyar ! An' now he's hurtin' 

that pore ol' beast 

(He goes for his rifle, Gram seizes him) 
Lemme go — lemme go I say. I got to git that thar 

snake. 

GRAM 

Don' go. Clay, fur my sake, don' go. Lem an' his 
hev taken all I hed. He'll take you now. 



ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 31 

CLAY 



(JJLAl 

I jes' pint blank got tuh go, Gram. 



GRAM 

(Beseechingly) 

Listen to me, Clay. I need yo'. Clay. I'm or — 
so or — so full of sorrers. Don' make it wuss fur 
me. . . . Don't go — my boy — my own boy — 
don' go. 

CLAY 

I'll do ennything else fur yo, Gram, but this I 
cain't. 

GRAM 

He'll kill yo' th' way he killed th' others, an' 
they'll lay yo' on that pallet-bed th' way they laid 

the 

(Breaks off — pushing the vision away from her) 

I couldn't Stan' hit. Clay. Hit would kill me. I 

cain't stand hit no mo'. The war's broke me. Ef 

I lose you, whut'll I hev left? Think o' me. Clay, 

think o' me. 

CLAY 

I do think o' yo. Gram. Whut good 'd I be t' 
yo' ef ye knowed I war a coward? 

GRAM 

I won't never think it. 

CLAY 

Then all Vengeance Height'll think it, and that 

won't save me neither. Coward or no, ef I stay 

here or no, he'll kill me fust chance he gits. I got 

t' take my chance with him. I jes' haffter do it. 



32 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 

GRAM 

Wait— wait — a leetle while — jes' a leetle while. 
He's a man growed, born an' raised on these mount- 
ings. He knows ev'y stone an' bresh. Yo've been 
away. Wait till yo've got a better chance 'gainst 
him. 

CLAY 

(Proudly) 

I kin shoot's good's him. 

GRAM 

Hain't all yer larnin' teached ye better'n t' go 
out a-shootin' an' a-bein' shot at? 

CLAY 

(Civilization dropping from him) 
Whut's larnin' w'en yo' got t' kill a man? 

(Gram suddenly snatches his rifle and stands 
with her back to the door) 

GRAM 

Yo're not a-goin'. 

CLAY 

I'm not a-goin' that-a-way, but the way I kem. 
I'll creep through the lof winder an' down th' hol- 
ler tree an' thro' the grass lik' a snake. I'd be 
willin' t' be a snake t' get him. 

GRAM 

(Frantically) 

Yo're not a-goin', I say. 

CLAY 

(With a new dignity) 

Thar's a Carmalt out thar, Gram. 



ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 33 

GRAM 
Yas. 

CLAY 

Yo know what they-uns done t' us. 

GRAM 

(The word being wrung from her) 
Ya-a-s. 

CLAY 

Yo' killed one of 'em yo'self. 

GRAM 

Y-a-s. 

CLAY 
Then gimme that rifle-gun an' tell me t' go th' 
way y' tole yer sons ter go 

GRAM 

(After an intense inward struggle, straightens 
out — and gives him the rifle) 

Yo' air the son of my sons. Go an' God keep yer 
eye clar an' yer han' steady. 

(He mounts the ladder and disappears) 

(The moment after he has left the room, Gram 
flings out her arms and uncontrollably breaks into 
passionate prayer) 

Gowd A'mighty, save him from th' hand o' that 
mis'ruble houn' a-waitin' fer him in th' dusk o' this 
night. Don' let him pay in his young innercence 
fer the sins o' his fathers, fer th' enemies they 
made, fer the blood they shed. Here 'm I — an ole, 
helpless woman — but don' cast me off — oh Lord — 
listen t' me in my trubble an' hev marcy on me. 
Take me 'stead o' him, Lord. I ain't wuth a mite, 



34 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 

but his whole life's ahead, an' he's got larnin' — 
what cain't he do. I ain't selfish 'nuff t' want him 
an' me both spared. Ef it mus' be one t' be tooken 
t'night, Lord Gowd A'mighty, let it be me! 

(Two shots ring out, A third one follows, and 
after a pause a fourth. Gram rushes to the door, 
flings hack the bar, throws the door open, and 
wildly calls, ''Clay — Clay — Clay." 

Receiving no answer she breaks down utterly. 
Her frame shaking with sobs she walks to the couch, 
turns down the bear robe and the blankets, and ar- 
ranges it as if to receive a wounded man. Then 
she feels her way to the table, reaches up to the 
hanging shelf, takes down a broad roll of linen, and 
stands there tearing it into bandages. The tears 
rolling down her cheeks she murmurs, ''Clay, Clay.") 

CLAY 
(Now a pale, stern man comes to the doorway 
from the right) 

I done got him, Gram. He's daid. 

GRAM 

{Throwing out her arms, beating her hands to- 
gether, and in infinite pride, satisfaction, and ecstasy 
raising her shrill song of triumph) 

He's daid — he's daid — Lem Carmalt's daid. My 
Clay, he killed him. 

CURTAIN 



LIBRftRY OF CONGRESS 

III 



015 905 313 1 



